The Interview
by dmsfanman
Summary: With college now behind her Daria has the challenge of interviewing for a job writing in New York. She is interviewing to write for her favorite TV show - Sick, Sad World. This is the 10th installment of my series on Daria's senior year in college.
1. Good Morning!

**Chapter 1: Good Morning!**

Tom opened one eye and was enjoying just lying there in the bed. The cool air in the room and faint smell of bleach in the hotel sheets filled his senses. He was lying on his side and observing Daria as she slept. The steady sound of her breathing was calming. He traced the line of her oval face with his eyes. He knew behind those sleeping eyelids were gorgeous brown eyes. Tom's thoughts drifted to the years he had known her. It still struck him how he had managed to meet and fall in love with his beautiful, auburn haired introvert, for whom outward appearance was something nearly irrelevant. It did seem a bit odd, especially since he was so much better in social situations. Yet, the object of his love had such an amazing mind and had read so much more than he ever hoped to read in a lifetime. He sometimes felt a little intimidated by her intellect. But, that is when he reminded himself that even though she had read so much and understood so many things, she would never be part of the world of accounting and work with numbers the way he did. He had his areas of expertise and she had her's. Yet they had those overlapping areas of interest that included so many things. There was their mutual love of reading and the new things they had discovered they did well together and enjoyed, such as cooking. Now here they were in this room waiting for the sound of the alarm clock. Today was a day which would potentially change the course of their lives. Today was the day they both had job interviews here in New York City. Both of them had to report to their prospective employers at 9:30 am. The alarm clock was set to jolt them awake at 6:00 am.

The alarm clock buzzed and Tom rolled over to turn it off. By the time he rolled back toward Daria she was up and out of the bed heading for the bathroom. Tom thought that this was probably the first time he had ever seen her leap out of bed like that. Usually she was the one that wanted to hit the snooze alarm three or four times before grudgingly putting a foot on the floor. Today was obviously going to be different. Tom just turned onto his back and stared at the ceiling. As he heard the shower start he grabbed the TV remote and turned on the morning news and weather. It looked like the weather at least would be nice today.

A while later Daria came out of the bathroom wrapped in two towels. She had blow-dried her hair and even used conditioner and mousse. She looked at Tom and said, "Now you go and do what you need to do so that I can get dressed!"

Tom traced the lines of her lithe body with his eyes. He replied to her comment with a sly grin, "Gee, I am kind of enjoying myself right here. The bed is comfortable and the view is fabulous."

"Cool your jets, mister," Daria responded. "This is not the time for fooling around. Maybe if we both have great interviews we can celebrate tonight. Now you need to get going so that we both have time for a decent breakfast. Who knows when we will get a chance to eat next?"

Tom jumped out of bed. He couldn't help but go up to Daria and hug her. She put her arms around him and they shared a kiss. She whispered, "I love you, Tom. But, I am really focused right now. Please just get ready for your interview." Then she very gently pushed him away.

"OK," Tom replied. "I'll be out in about 20 minutes or so." With that he grabbed clean underwear out of his suitcase and went into the bathroom.

...

As they walked into the hotel restaurant for breakfast, Tom was stealing glances at Daria. He couldn't help but be impressed with how good Daria looked. Her make-up was perfect. She was wearing a bohemian print dress with colors that absolutely highlighted her hair. The dress came ever so slightly above her knee. Over the dress she wore a deep brown suede blazer. The plain blazer contrasted well with the intricacy of the pattern on the dress. It blended well with the colors in the dress as well. The scoop neckline was attractive, but not too revealing. On her feet she wore short brown boots with about a two inch (5 cm) heel. To say that she looked fantastic would have been an understatement! Clearly she must have had Quinn's help putting together the outfit. Quinn was ever the fashion maven and Tom knew that Quinn had friends majoring in fashion design. They may have helped as well. Daria's outfit was just the right blend of sexy and business for an interview to be a writer for Sick, Sad, World. Her look complimented the idea that she was a creative person. Tom felt like telling Daria again how great she looked, but decided not to say again how great she looked. He had already done that in their room.

While Tom was musing about Daria's outfit, she was thinking how handsome Tom looked in his blue pinstripe suit, white shirt, and Maroon striped tie. He had a brand new pair of black shoes on this morning. The suit clearly fit him perfectly and enhanced every feature he had yet made him look more mature. He could certainly be at home in anyone's boardroom even at such a young age. Even though she admitted it was kind of a shallow feeling, Daria was happy to be seen with this handsome man! She had even told him that he looked really good before they left their room!

Once seated at the table both Tom and Daria ordered coffee. Tom took a moment to take in the surroundings before looking at the menu. The tables in the restaurant all were covered in white linen tablecloths. The china was of high quality, as was the stainless steel, and there were flowers on the table. The room itself was brightly lit through both the chandeliers and windows on the street. There were plants around the room and that helped keep the noise under control despite the high ceiling. Tom started going over the menu.

"What looks good to you?" Tom asked Daria.

In total deadpan Daria answered, "I'm not sure. They don't have sugar tarts on the menu."

Tom smiled and said, "You don't want those today anyway. You need protein, some complex starches, and maybe a little fruit to give you some quick energy to start. You need to be awake and focused for the long haul today. You do not want to be suffering from sugar shock!"

Still deadpanning Daria replied, "OK Mr. Nutritionist, what do you suggest that I have?"

"Look at this special, it is two poached eggs over asparagus with hollandaise sauce and hashbrowns. I would add a fresh fruit cup topped with yogurt on the side. Make sure that you drink at least a full glass of water along with your coffee. Drink the majority of your coffee after you have eaten the eggs. Altogether that will mitigate the rate at which the caffeine, sugar, and carbs are absorbed. The protein and fats will keep you feeling full."

Daria looked up from the menu and stared at Tom for a moment and then asked, "Where and when did you become an expert on nutrition? I thought you were an accountant."

"I am. Bromwell's public health program is strong in the area of nutrition. One of my friends was in the program, was really into nutrition, and he was also an athlete. He made it a point to tell all of us who might not eat in a way to maximize our classroom focus just what to do!"

Daria chuckled. "In other words, he was one of those people who made themselves a total pain by telling other people what to eat."

"That is correct." Tom replied. "The only thing is that he was absolutely right. So, when you asked I gave you the sum total of my wisdom gained from him."

"Gotcha," Daria said. "I will follow your advice, but that means I am holding you responsible for my blood sugar levels today!"

"Yes Daria," Tom said with a note of resignation and a wry smile. He thought to himself, 'My God she is beautiful today.'

Daria ordered what Tom suggested. Tom had a mushroom and vegetable omelet with whole grain toast, jam, and fruit without yogurt. Now both were set if lunch turned out to be meager or non-existent. Tom had already taught Daria to keep a granola bar stashed in one of her jacket pockets just in case she needed fuel right away.

As they ate Tom asked, "So, what do you think this interview will be like?"

"From what I have been able to gather from our Raft alum there it will be a mishmash of things. We are going to have some of the usual 'sit and ask questions' type of interview, but there will also be at least some writing required today. The whole thing may not even fit in the standard business day. So, if I am not back here for dinner, then don't starve to death. Get yourself something and I will be along. We should be able to ultimately eat together. After all this is New York. This is the city that never sleeps!"

Tom commented, "OK. When I get back I will scout out nearby late night places and ones that are open 24 hours. I'll also make certain that there is at least some minimal thing for you to eat when you get back here. If it is truly late and you have not eaten, then you may be really hungry."

"Thanks, Tom. I may not say it very often, but I do appreciate it when you take good care of me."

"I do it because I love you. Now we need to get going. The subway is only a block away, but we need to allow plenty of time to get to our destinations. After all we don't want to be late for our interviews!"

"No kidding."

The morning was bright and sunny. Daria switched from her glasses to her sunglasses for the walk to the subway. She her purse strap slung over her head for security. The two walked to the platform and got on the train. Tom got off to change trains one stop before Daria's destination. He gave her a quick kiss a moment before the doors opened. Then he was gone.

...

The offices of Lucky 12 Communications would certainly not count as glamorous by anyone's standards. The building was older and the floors did not seem to be totally even. The reception area was fine, though Daria thought the walls could probably use a fresh coat of paint. The receptionist sat behind a large wooden workstation and a large version of the Lucky 12 logo hung on the wall behind her.

Daria walked up to the receptionist and said, "Hi. I'm Daria Morgendorffer. I'm here to interview with Mr. Bergen."

In a thick New York accent the receptionist replied, "Sure. Sign in here and take a visitor's badge. Then go over there and sit. I'll call Mr. Bergen's secretary and she'll come get you." Daria did what she was directed to do. As she turned to go and have a seat she overheard the receptionist say on the phone, "Yeah, Judy. The first of the fresh meat is here. Are you gonna come get her? Sure. OK. Bye." The receptionist went back to looking at her magazine without saying anything else to Daria.

It was about 15 minutes before Judy Gold came out and introduced herself to Daria. The woman was about average height and Daria guessed in her early fifties. Her black hair was about half gray and pulled back in a tight bun. In Daria's opinion she wore way too much make-up – probably to try and hide all of the lines visible in her face. She wore black pants and a white top.

Daria followed her back to Mr. Bergen's office. "Sit here. Mr. Bergen will let me know when he is ready for you." That was all she said to Daria. Clearly idle conversation was not something that interested her. Daria sat and waited in a chair clearly older than she was. Looking around she thought the office furniture might be as old as Ms. Gold! Maybe that was stretching the point.

"Is there a schedule for my interview today?" Daria asked.

"Probably," Ms. Gold replied. "But I don't have it. Around here you will have to get used to adjusting to whatever is in the production schedule. That drives everything. Now if you'll excuse me I have work to do." She turned away from Daria, looked at her computer screen and began typing something.

After about a half hour Mr. Bergen walked out of his office, turned to Daria and said, "You Morgen-whatever?"

Daria looked up at the man standing there in a pair of worn suit trousers and an open white shirt, which appeared to have some kind of stain on one cuff. She stood up and replied, "Yes. I'm Daria Morgendorffer." She then extended her hand to shake Mr. Bergen's hand.

Mr. Bergen just sort of looked at her hand and said, "Follow me." And then he started walking down the hall. Daria lowered her hand and followed. The two entered a large conference room with a multi-piece conference table and chairs that didn't match. Most of the chairs were already filled. Along the wall were some wooden folding chairs. Mr. Bergen motioned Daria to sit in one of the chairs. Three others were already sitting in the folding chairs – 2 men and another woman. Based on their dress, Daria surmised that these were the other interviewees. She wondered about the whereabouts of the fifth person who was supposed to be interviewed.

Daria's momentary thoughts were interrupted by Mr. Bergen's rising voice. He was looking at one of the older men at the table. Daria guessed him to be mid-forties.

"Howard, you haven't written a decent thing in six months," Mr. Bergen said loudly.

"Morry, you have never really liked my style. You simply aren't taking a close look at what I am writing. You never give it a chance!"

Mr. Bergen's face got visibly red as he spat out, "Suck is not a style Howard. You're fired. Monte in HR has your last check and will watch you put your personal items in a box and walk you out. Now get outta here."

The room was completely silent. Howard was visibly in shock as he got up and walked out of the room looking something like a robot with no facial expression.

Looking at the row of interviewees along the wall Mr. Bergen said, "Let that be a lesson to all of you. You cannot get complacent in this job. Every day is a battle for ratings. Ratings only happen when you have good writing that catches peoples' attention and holds it. Their attention span has been dwindling since microwaves started appearing in people's homes. Now you have a minute at most to capture them. Howard got complacent, wrote crap, and you see where it got him. The good news for you kids is that there are now two openings you are competing to fill. Since the fifth guy never showed it means you each have a 50% chance of getting hired – assuming write equally well. Now let's get this production meeting started."

Daria's first thought was that this guy could give her mother lessons on office tirades. As the meeting moved forward Mr. Bergen's demeanor didn't improve. He was curt, rude, and belittled his staff of writers and producers. Some argued with him, which he seemed to enjoy. Others just sat there in silence and took notes. This was likely to be a long day! All she could think of was 'Bull in a china shop versus bull from an executive – tonight on Sick, Sad, World.'

After an hour the meeting wound down and Mr. Bergen selected four writers and handed each one some papers. He said, "Each of you take the person on the paper and keep them on schedule for today. Bring them to me to interview at the time on your sheets. Understand?"

All four writers responded with 'yes.'

Hattie Blum was given Daria's name. She came over and said, "You're Daria?"

Daria stood up and responded, "Yes. I'm Daria Morgendorffer." She extended her hand and Hattie shook it.

"Nice to meet you. I'm Hattie Blum. Looking at this schedule, the next item for you is a tour of the writers' suite and then the production facilities. Follow me. We will look at the writers' suite first."

As they walked along the dingy hallway Daria said to Hattie, "That was some meeting."

Hattie responded, "Ah, it was worse than most. Bergie doesn't usually fire people in a meeting. But, clearly the ratings were down from last week. You can always tell by looking at the credenza."

"How's that?" Daria asked.

"Donuts," Hattie replied. "If we are up over the week before, then Bergie buys donuts for the meeting. If we are up over last week and the year prior, then he buys sweet rolls. Those always get placed on the credenza. If we are down over last week, then we get nothing. So, the moment you walk in the room it is usually possible to tell what kind of meeting it will be."

As they walked toward the writers' suite Daria looked around. She would describe the surroundings as shabby - maybe even grimy. Clearly the walls all needed a coat of paint. It was hardly the glamorous surroundings one would expect from TV shows. It was pretty much the opposite.

...

While Daria was watching Howard get fired, Tom was sitting in his third meeting with an executive at Doodle, Bottom, and Potts. Accountants were not known for being especially outgoing or chatty people, so these meetings as part of the interview process were almost scripted. Tom would go into an office. He would shake hands with the person he was meeting. Then they would exchange some introductory banter and finally settle down and discuss accounting issues. According to the schedule, Tom would be meeting with each of the partners in the office. He would end his day by meeting with the most senior partner.

Tom had already had the office tour. On the tour he basically saw the endless sea of cubicles. There in the tiny spaces the people below the rank of partner toiled over their endless screens of data and tiny pieces of paper like modern day Bob Cratchits. The air conditioning was a little on the cool side today. Tom had wondered if someone would beg a partner to throw another lump of coal on the fire! That was probably doubtful. At least there were windows on the outside of the building to let in natural light.

As the partner went about extolling the virtues of his area in the office Tom's mind wandered just a bit. Cost accounting for large non-profit institutions was not his area of interest. Tom wondered how Daria's day was progressing. Surely writing for a TV show would be more exciting than accounting. Tom had to admit to himself that he liked accounting and that he was nowhere near as creative as his auburn haired love. The truth was that the term 'creative accountant' had a certain negative connotation to it.

The meeting continued with the partner asking Tom numerous stock questions, which Tom answered feigning excitement about the partner's area. Then their 20 minutes ended. The partner stood up. They shook hands, the secretary escorted Tom to the next partner, and the process repeated itself. Rinse and repeat was clearly the order of the day.


	2. The Strange, Bizarre and Unexpected

**Chapter 2: The Strange, the Bizarre, and the Unexpected**

Hattie and Daria walked into the writers' suite. The first thing that Daria noticed was the large conference table in the center of the room near the door. It was covered with everything from papers to fast food waste. She also noted that none of the chairs matched. Overall it looked like the furnishings had been salvaged from the nearest dumpster. Beyond the table were cubicles.

A guy walked up to Daria, wiped his hand on his t-shirt – that hand needed wiping – and extended it. Daria shook hands with him as he said, "You must be the first of the interviewees today. I'm Burt. I'm the head writer for the show." Turning to Hattie he said, "Sorry I had to send you to the production meeting, but I had to stop in at the dentist's office this morning. Where's Howard?"

Hattie said in a rather matter-of-fact tone, "Fired. Bergie canned him right there in the meeting. I'm surprised he hasn't been up yet with HR to collect his things."

"Too bad," Burt lamented. "But, you could see it coming. He hadn't written a decent thing in six months."

"That's the way it goes," Hattie replied.

Turning again to Daria, Burt said, "Let me show you around here right quick."

"By the way, Burt," Hattie said. "Can someone get this table cleaned up before the boss comes in here and sees it? He'll have a hemorrhage and fire the whole staff!"

"That would be you #2," Burt responded. "Now Daria, I'm sorry to say that you missed the morning writers' meeting. There will be an afternoon meeting as well. In the morning we sit around this table and figure out what stories to write for the show. As you might guess, we write show segments and then the director decides which segments will be put together for any one show. We try to have a backlog of about one week's material so that there is never an interruption. It also keeps us from going insane. As it is sometimes the director wants a rewrite shortly before air time." Daria walked with Burt around the cubicles and he introduced her to the writers. As much as the meeting area looked like a pig sty, the individual cubicles were mostly neat, clean, the furnishings were in good shape, and the writers had the latest technology. Clearly, however, there was not a dress code in the writers' suite.

The two stopped at Burt's cubicle. He sat in his desk chair and motioned Daria to sit in a hard plastic side chair. As she sat down Burt asked her, "So, if you died and came back as an animal, what kind of animal would you be?"

"Excuse me?" Daria asked incredulously. Her eyes got very big.

"If you died and came back as an animal, what kind of animal would you be?" Burt asked again.

"Bald eagle," Daria replied almost instantly.

Looking at her, Burt asked, "Why a bald eagle?"

"Simple," Daria replied. "They get to fly, they're fast, they can eat most anything, they can fly in a storm, and they are protected by law from human beings."

"Hmm," was all Burt could say. "How would you translate that into a Sick Sad World headline?"

Daria responded right away, "Untouchable threat to your pets? Bald eagles dining on your dog – next on Sick Sad World!"

"That's pretty good. I like it," Burt said. "What would I find if I looked in your refrigerator right now?"

Daria was beginning to wonder at the sanity of these people, but then they did write for Sick Sad World. "Right now you would find nothing. I'm homeless. I just graduated from college and have no place of my own."

Burt's eyes got wide and he exclaimed, "Are you living in your car?"

"I don't have a car," Daria replied.

Burt's voice went up about a half-octave. "So, you're staying with your parents then?"

"No."

"Then what do you do with all your things?" Burt's eyes were now bulging.

"I have a suitcase and a backpack. That's it," Daria said in total deadpan.

Burt looked like he was near panic, "You aren't living on the street are you? Are you at least in a shelter?"

Daria decided to end this line of questioning before Burt had a stroke. "No. I am staying with my boyfriend. His lease runs until the end of June. Here in New York for the moment I am living in a hotel."

"Oh, well that's good. I'd hate to see you living in a cardboard box on the streets of New York!"

Burt got up and escorted Daria to her next interview with a guy named Hersh. No one mentioned if it was his first name or last name. Hersh didn't introduce himself to her. He just sat down and it was clear she was expected to sit in the side chair by his desk.

Hersh said with his very thick Brooklyn accent, "So, how would you describe yourself in three words?"

The first words that came to Daria's mind were: annoyed, intellectual, and apathetic. However, she knew that these would hardly help her in an interview! Instead she looked at Hersh and said, "Creative, focused, and articulate."

Hersh paused a minute and looked around his cubicle. Then he turned and said, "OK, so tell me a funny story about something that happened to you in college that shows those three traits."

Daria paused and was a little nonplussed by the question. She was prepared to talk about herself in terms of her professional work and even some bland personal things in order to make small talk. She and Tom had even practiced some off-the-wall questions to help her think on her feet. This was a whole different level. Telling a personal, humorous story was simply not something she did, except maybe with Tom or Jane. Even then, Daria would hardly volunteer such information to her best friends unless intoxicated or pressed. Now this random guy at a job interview wanted her to open up. This was clearly a conundrum. She had three choices: tell a true story from college, use something from high school and pretend it was college, or make up a completely fictional story, i.e., lie. Her interviewer wouldn't know the difference. Should the story be self-deprecating, which would show that she wasn't conceited? Alternatively, she could have someone else be the butt of something she did to them, which would simply paint her as a bitch. Oh the choices we have to make!

"So?" Hersh said. "C'mon already."

Daria responded, "Alright, here is a story from my sophomore year. My best friend goes to Boston Fine Arts College."

Hersh interrupted with the comment, "Yeah, I know the place. They call it BFAC. My sister went there 10 years ago. She waits tables now."

"So you know that they have graphic arts, performing arts, music, and programs like fashion and costume design."

"Yeah. My sister was learning to paint. What a waste for my parents. My father sold all of my mother's diamonds, except her wedding ring, to pay for that place. On top of it, I don't think my sister had any talent. She would have done better to apprentice and learn to paint walls. But, BFAC still let her in and took our money. Me, I just worked hard on my writing and went to community college. Now who is better off? Me."

Daria made an instant and potentially dangerous decision. She decided to act like her interviewer. "So," she said. "Do you want to hear the story or not? I'm perfectly good not telling you about this."

"Go on," Hersh said.

"So my friend was dating this guy named Henry. Henry was majoring in acting and he had a class where they were doing dramatic reading. For this assignment they were reading in parts. The book was Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice. It was a Saturday night and several of us were sitting around Henry's apartment and had had a few drinks. Jane was really bugging them to do some of the reading. We had the members of Henry's team there, except the person who was to read Mr. Bennet. Jane insisted that I read his part, being the only literature major present. She also knew that I really love Jane Austen."

"Sounds like a boring Saturday night to me."

"That's the BFAC crowd. Anyway, so we start reading Chapter 41. Just to make it interesting, Jane had insisted that we make the reading a drinking game. Everyone had to do a shot whenever the word 'life' was uttered."

"Now we are getting somewhere," Hersh said. "You're pretty skinny. I bet that booze went right to your head!"

Daria's first thought was, 'You are a pig.' But, she just pushed on with the story. "We had taken three shots when we came to the section where Mr. Bennett was talking about Lydia. I was reading the text very seriously when I came to the statement 'she cannot grow many degrees worse without authorizing us to lock her up for the rest of her life.' I blew the line." Daria leaned forward and got close to Hersh's face. In her absolutely best deadpan she delivered the line, "I said, 'she cannot grow many degrees worse without authorizing us to knock her up for the rest of her life!'"

Hersh started to laugh so hard that Daria thought he would either fall off of his chair and hit his head on something – not that it would cause any noticeable damage – or that he would wet himself. Fortunately, he did neither. It probably took him three minutes or so to collect himself. Wiping his eyes he said, "That is a good story!"

Daria talked with Hersh for another five minutes or so. Then before taking her to the next meeting he said, "I have one more question for you."

"Shoot," Daria replied. This guy was clearly insufferable.

Hersh asked, "What is the thing that you hate most about humanity?"

Daria answered in total deadpan, "Clearly it is their personal greenhouse gas emissions. They breath, they speak, and they fart. I have to put up with all of that just to survive in this world. I could certainly do without it and so could the environment."

Hersh guffawed again and had to wipe his eyes. "Daria," he said. "You have a fantastic sense of comic timing. I think that is something we need around here. But first, I need to take you to the next interview."

Daria endured two more interviews. She had to answer such deep questions as: What do you think about when you are alone in a car? And what is the weirdest place you ever unintentionally vomited? Audrey, Daria's final interview of the morning, led her back to the large conference area. Finally, it was time for lunch.


	3. Lunchtime!

**Chapter 3: Lunchtime!**

In the conference area Hattie was setting up submarine sandwiches on a long side table. She had brought the sandwiches in from a nearby deli. A couple of the other writers were already there and looking over Hattie's shoulder.

With a distinct note of irritation in her voice Hattie admonished the growing crowd around her, "Alright you vultures. The first rule is that the interviewees get to select their food and drinks first! You get the leftovers. Capice? Now back off and make some room here. Also, we are waiting until everyone gets here before we start."

As Hattie was berating the writers, the other interviewees started filing in with their guides. Daria recognized them from the morning meeting. She carefully positioned herself near the head of the serving table, but not so close as to look like she was a 'vulture.' At least she would be close enough to have a selection once this feeding frenzy began!"

Hattie stood guard over the serving table until all the interviewees were assembled. Then she said, "Listen up pekopons." Daria noted the obscure reference to Sergeant Frog – a Japanese anime cartoon where 'pekopons' were the inept invaders trying to take over the Earth. Daria wondered if there was a running joke in the office. "Interviewees go first! Daria, you're mine, so you start. The rest of you wait until the interviewees have their food and are seated at the conference table! Got that? Daria, go."

Daria walked along the table taking a beef sub, kosher dill pickle, plain potato chips, a chocolate cookie and an Ultra-Cola. She made certain that she had enough food to get her to dinner. She didn't want to wind up starving mid-afternoon, even though she had a couple of granola bars in her jacket pocket just in case! After taking her food Daria walked around the table and sat on the corner farthest from the food to avoid being jostled.

Once the interviewees were seated the rest of the people attacked the serving table. Daria was trying to decide if it was more like a shark feeding frenzy or a group of starving people stranded on an island seeing a shipment of food dropped from the air. Most of the writers disappeared with their food back to their cubicles. A few stayed and ate at the table. Nonetheless it was entertaining. At least the other interviewees were not trying to make idle conversation. She did have to endure that from the remaining writers, however. One woman even asked where she got her dress and jacket.

By the time 30 minutes had passed everyone had eaten. The writers mostly went back to their cubicles the moment the last bit of food went in their mouths. Hattie turned to the interviewees and said, "OK, each of you has two people left to talk with this afternoon plus each of you will have to talk to Mr. Bergen. We also have an activity for you."

Daria threw her food papers in the trash and followed Hattie to her next interview. The last two were mostly like the previous ones. This time she got to speculate on why manhole covers are round and what a penguin walking through the door wearing a sombrero would say. All-in-all Daria had to rate this day of interviewing as one of the stranger experiences of her life. Her last interviewer led her back to the conference table where she sat for about ten minutes before the other interviewees began filtering in.

Finally, Hattie showed up. "Ok interviewees. Now we are going to do some real work. I have a cubicle set up for each of you. Your assignment is to write a segment for the show based on your own life. The assignment is due in 2 hours. Sometime while you are working I will come and get you to meet with Mr. Bergen. I suggest that you not waste any time!" Then one by one Hattie led each interviewee to a cubicle. They were purposely not located close together. Daria started working.

...

Lunch for Tom had been at a nearby steakhouse. Three accountants from Doodle, Bottom, and Potts accompanied him. The place they chose specialized in Midwestern beef. He had a small steak, fries, and some pie for dessert. Tom carefully chose what he ordered so as not to have anything which might get on his suit. There was nothing worse than having to go through an afternoon of meetings with food stains on your suit! Well, at least nothing worse in the world of accounting.

...

Daria sat in her cubicle contemplating what to write. One thing that this was doing was forcing her to confront her college experience versus her high school experience. Although college had provided vastly more intellectual stimulation and the chance to pursue her real interests, the fact was that as an adult she more or less had control of her own activities. You simply couldn't beat high school for silliness and stupidity wrought by those who were supposedly in authority! Thus, Daria decided to reach all the way back to high school for an event to chronicle in an episode of Sick Sad World.

Daria had the headline: "Drunken Skunks and Fornicating Faculty – Armed Children Left in the Woods by Their Teachers. Next on Sick Sad World." To be honest the view through her scope of Ms. Barch pantless on top of Mr. O'Neil still haunted her. Despite Jane's urgings Daria had decided not to land a paintball on Ms. Barch's right cheek. Fortunately, at that point Jane was out of ammunition. Let the two have their fun! Still, Daria and Jane never looked at Ms. Barch and Mr. O'Neil the same way ever again. After that they couldn't even bring themselves to rattle the door knob on the Janitor's closet during the last period of the day. The two teachers both had planning periods then and there were often noises that could just be heard if you put your ear up to the door.

Hattie walked up as Daria was staring at her screen thinking of the next sentence to write. While it didn't quite startle Daria, it was nevertheless a surprise.

"Come on. Time to talk to Mr. Bergen," Hattie said very matter of factly.

"OK," Daria responded. Before getting up she saved her file and closed it. She also quickly emailed the file to herself. That way if someone tried to sabotage her work she could quickly recover it. Then she got up and followed Hattie.

...

During the afternoon Tom made a presentation on his senior project and the role he played as part of the team. It was well attended and several of the people present asked excellent questions. Tom's final meeting of the day was with the Human Resources department where they discussed benefits and other matters pertaining to employment with the firm. The one thing that had surprised Tom was that the senior partner came in at the end of the session and made Tom an offer to work for them. With his Bromwell education, outstanding grades, and valuable summer internships the offer was quite generous. It was enough to live a good middle class life style in New York City – well, for a new college graduate. He was even offered a signing bonus. Tom thanked the senior partner and said that he would like to sleep on it. He would give them an answer by the close of business the next day. Since it was late in the afternoon, Tom headed back to the hotel to wait for Daria.


	4. The Big Guy!

**Chapter 4: The Big Guy**

Mr. Bergen's office was in stark contrast to the rest of the building. It was large and clearly he liked leather furniture. His taste also included oriental rugs and antiques – and not antiques as in old half-broken office furniture! The office was also clean, neat, and the painted portions of the walls looked like they had received a recent coat. He motioned Daria to sit on one of the leather couches. He sat down by her on an adjacent chair.

"So, Ms. Morgendorffer. Tell me how did you like Raft?" He asked.

Daria answered, "I liked Raft quite a bit. I lived on campus all four years. I especially liked the English faculty."

"Is professor Durbin still there?" Mr. Bergen asked.

"He retired at the end of this academic year. In fact, he was my advisor for my senior honors thesis."

Mr. Bergen replied, "I know. He is part of the reason you are here. He gave your entry – and you – a strong recommendation. He even called me. Once I had a chance to review your entry in the contest I knew you were one of the people I wanted to interview."

Daria wasn't quite sure what to say. It was now clear to her that the mysterious alumnus that had been mentioned was none other than one of the most senior people in the organization!

"I started out writing for this show shortly after graduating from Raft. I had one short gig in-between, but I landed here and stayed. I've been here for over 20 years now. Sick Sad World has been very very good to me and it can be very very good to you! Work hard, write well, and never take anything for granted. That advice was given to me and I am giving it to you. If you perform well in the rest of this interview process I will make you an offer. But don't think you can get it by just being a Raft graduate!"

Daria said, "I would never make that assumption Mr. Bergen. I want you to choose me because you believe I am best for the job."

"Good. Now I have a question for you that I am asking each candidate. What was your first job and what three things did you learn from it?"

Daria smiled at Mr. Bergen and replied, "I worked in a nut house." Then she paused.

"Really Ms. Morgendorffer. Around here you should probably call it an institution which helps people with mental illness."

"No Mr. Bergen. It was a nut house. A nut house in the mall. We had dozens of nuts. However, I think calling it an institution for the mentally ill might not be far from the truth – but they weren't helped by it."

Mr. Bergen chuckled and said, "Go on. Tell me about the cast of characters."

"Well, there were three main ones. I was a very rational and somewhat anti-social teen. The manager was a guy obsessed with nuts. I would call him OCD. He could not only tell you every little thing about every nut, but he wanted the nuts packaged in just a certain way. You had to wear the uniform – a black smock and squirrel faced hat – in just a certain way. Furthermore, he had installed cameras to record everything that happened in his little mall kiosk. He would watch the footage to make certain that the employees both smiled and greeted every customer with the required greeting. It was something like 'Welcome to the nut house. We are crazy about nuts. We munch our nuts day and night. For breakfast or for lunch we can't help but play with our nuts!'"

Mr. Bergen looked at Daria and exclaimed, "You've got to be kidding!"

"Yes I am. Actually it went 'Welcome to It's a Nutty, Nutty, Nutty World. We're just nuts about nuts. Crunch nuts with your lunch. Buy them by the bunch. Send them to friends far away to munch.' That stupid greeting will never get out of my head. So, lesson number one – work is work and not play. It may not be a pleasant experience and can scar you for life."

"Go on," Mr. Bergen said.

"Well the third character in this Greek comedy was my school's quarterback. I would say that he was dumb as a post, but that would be insulting to the post. He could never get the greeting right nor could he identify the correct bins of nuts. He couldn't even run the cash register. He was, however, quite capable of smiling, especially at pretty girls. The one thing he was good at was the thing his girlfriend, who was head cheerleader, hated the most. Of course, the manager was glad to have him because of who he was not because of any qualifications he might have had. Thus came lesson two – life isn't fair. Get over it. At least I was the one to become the first 'employee of the week.' Of course, I was gone by the next week."

Mr. Bergen asked, "Why were you gone by the next week?

"My mother the lawyer heard about the way that the manager was treating me as the lesser of the two employees. She went and reamed the manager a new one and threatened to sue the company. So, he fired me. Thanks Mom. I may not have loved the job, but at least I had some income!"

"So what was your third lesson?"

"The third lesson was really a personal one – don't work in retail. I have been part of many teams in classes. I have worked with effective teams on the school newspaper and Raft's literary magazine. However, working with random members of the public who happen to walk up to me is just not something I am comfortable doing. I will give you 'Lesson Four:' Sometimes experiences teach us what we don't want to do. I prefer a job where I can use my creative abilities."

Smiling, Mr. Bergen looked at his Rolex watch and said, "Well it seems our time is up." He smiled as he stood and shook Daria's hand. Daria walked out his office door and Hattie escorted her back to her cubicle.


	5. Assembly Line

**Chapter 5: The Assembly Line**

Back in the cubicle Daria worked on completing her piece about the paintball fieldtrip. Daria looked at the clock on her computer when she finished her work. There was about 15 minutes left until the deadline. Daria used the time to edit her work in one or two places and finally submitted it to the system with two minutes to spare. A confirmation message appeared on her screen along with another message to report to the conference room table.

When she arrived at the conference table all the writers were sitting there apparently arguing with each other. Burt was standing at one end of the table writing things on one of the whiteboards. He turned to the interviewees who had just entered the room and said, "You interviewees stand by the far wall, watch, and listen. This is the final pre-production meeting. What comes out of here will be the options for tonight's program. The results go to Hattie, she makes the final call on content and then they go up to Bergie for final review. He almost never makes a change. This all has to be done in an hour, because it then goes to production. Once things go to production our job is done for the day and we can go home. Therefore, we want everything to be right when it goes out of here. Each night one person stays late in case some rewrites are need." Looking back at the people around the table he shouted, "Alright now give me 6 stories."

Daria stood there and watched the chaos, fighting, and shouting that went on during the meeting. Clearly the writers were competing to get their stories on the show. Once those were chosen, then two or three were chosen to go in reserve. It started to become clear that the advantage of having your story chosen was that you kept your job. If you went too long without having a story chosen for airing, then your job was in jeopardy. She was reminded of a movie she and Jane saw together – Chicken Run. If you were a hen and stopped laying eggs, then you got 'the chop!'

All of this was clearly a competition. In the end Burt had his list. He went back to his cubicle and forwarded the list and files to Hattie. After the meeting the writers just milled around the room. Some writers talked to the interviewees – Daria noticed the ones that talked were the ones who had their stories chosen. The others just slunk back to their cubicles to wait for the stories to be sent to production so that they could go home.

About 30 minutes later Burt stuck his head back in the room and nearly shouted, "Hattie has approved everything. It is on to Burt now." Then he disappeared again. When another 20 minutes had passed he returned with his jacket and announced, "Burt approved and the script is in production. Goodnight everyone. John is staying tonight. Interviewees, Hattie will be here in a minute. She will have a final debrief with you." With that he turned and hurried out the door.

The interviewees seemed to be loosening up a bit and actually talked to each other. Daria found out that they were all new graduates and had graduated from Columbia, Yale, and the University of Houston. Not surprisingly, all of them were already published authors. It was about 25 minutes before Hattie showed up.

"Follow me," Hattie said. "Yalie, you have a meeting with Human Resources. The rest of you will continue on with me." With that she turned and the four interviewees followed. They stopped at Human Resources and the young man who studied at Yale left the group and went into the office. Everyone else followed Hattie to the Production Department. Just before entering Hattie turned to the three interviewees and said, "The kid from Yale is done. You are now the pool for the two jobs. Good luck. We are going to go in and we will watch production of an episode. Keep quiet and don't touch anything. Production has 3 hours to get this program ready to air. You will see recording, editing, and final review. It all happens fast so pay attention. Nobody is going to talk to you until after the show is ready to air. So, there will be no questions. Understand?" Everyone nodded their heads yes and followed her through the door. Hattie indicated where they were to sit and watch.

Daria was surprised at how quickly the next couple of hours went by. They watched as video was taken in the studio, dubbing was performed on the film clips, and how the video editors put everything together in a coherent show. Finally, they got to see the entire show before it went on TV.

Once that was over Hattie took the three of them aside and said, "OK, now you three are done for today. Come back tomorrow at 9:00 am sharp. I will meet you in the lobby." Hattie then escorted them all to the lobby. They turned in their visitor's badges and headed outside.

Once outside Daria checked her phone. It was 8:15 pm. She flipped it open and quickly called Tom.

"Hi Daria," Tom said. "Are you done for the day?"

Daria replied, "Yeah. I can go to the subway and head back to the hotel. I should be able to get there in less than an hour."

"Is there a place you can wait indoors?" Tom asked.

"I think I can wait in the lobby. Why?" Daria answered.

"I think I can get to you faster. And I found a couple of restaurants near the studios. We can have dinner there. How does that sound?"

"Sounds fine to me. I'll wait in the building lobby. See you in a little bit. Bye." Daria closed her phone ending the call. Then she went back into the building lobby where she sat on a bench that allowed her to see out the windows. The security guard had no problem letting her sit there and wait for Tom.

….

Sitting in the Italian restaurant a block from the studios Tom and Daria ordered salads, pizza, and beer. Daria hadn't realized that Tom called ahead and reserved a curved booth in the corner. As much as Tom wanted to hear about Daria's interview she insisted that he go first.

"Well, it was pretty standard. I talked to several partners. They have a 'hiring season' right after most colleges are finished with the school year. You go around and talk about your interests in the field. Each partner represents a different practice within the firm. Ultimately they are trying to match you as a candidate for one or two areas. When they have finished interviewing all of the candidates they make their selection and send out job offers. I am one of the later candidates and they liked me. So, I have a job offer in hand from them. I need to tell them yes or no by close of business tomorrow."

Daria asked, "Wow. Did you get to see your work environment?"

"Yes," Tom replied. "It will be cubicle sweet cubicle! Partners get an office with a view of cubicle land and supervise the secretary for their area. Senior partners get an office suite with a private secretary and real wood furniture."

In total deadpan Daria commented, "It is good to have something to aspire to!"

"Are you encouraging me or is that sarcasm? You know sometimes I can't tell with you!" Tom commented.

"Both," Daria replied. "I know you are not so shallow that the furniture is your motivation. Obviously you see opportunities with advancement in the firm. I hope it is to accomplish something good."

Tom smiled at Daria and said, "You know that it is."

She replied, "What are you going to tell them?"

"I wanted to talk with you first," He answered as he leaned over and kissed her. Just then their salads arrived. "Now tell me about your day."

"Think hamster on a wheel," Daria said. She went on to talk about the firing at the morning meeting. Then she told Tom about how they had written segments and spent time interviewing with various people. "The weirdest part was that each individual I interviewed with asked some totally stupid question. My favorite was: 'What is the thing that you hate most about humanity?'"

Tom looked at Daria. Smiling again he said, "That ought to be right up your alley!" Then he kissed her cheek.

Looking at Tom she wiped her cheek and replied, "I told him it was boyfriends who kiss me after eating creamy Italian dressing with plenty of garlic in it!"

"Oh," Tom said.

Daria reached over, squeezed his hand and smiled at him. The occasional public kiss was alright, but Daria was still not very comfortable with much in the way of public displays of affection. It wasn't that she wasn't affectionate toward Tom. It was just that she still preferred to keep things in private.

Tom got the message. He had pushed Daria a little too far. Between the stress of the job interview and everything else he would wait until they were back in the hotel room before he showed any more overt affection. He also knew that pushing Daria a little bit now would then actually help her open up and be more affectionate.

As they started in on their pizza Tom asked, "So were there any other interesting questions?"

"Well, there was 'Who would you let punch you directly in the face and why them?'"

Tom chuckled, "OK. I am sitting on pins and needles waiting for this answer."

Daria went on in total deadpan, "Why I told them you, of course. I'm your girlfriend and you like to be seen with me. Even if I let you punch me directly in the face I am certain that you wouldn't hurt me. You don't want to be going around with a girlfriend with a damaged face!"

Tom laughed so hard that he nearly choked on the bit of pizza in his mouth. He took several sips of his beer before he could speak again. Then he said, "I would never hurt you, Daria! Physically or emotionally."

Looking into Tom's gray eyes and taking his hand under the table Daria replied simply, "I know. Now you need to promise me that you will take that job."

"We don't know your situation yet," Tom said.

"Look," Daria replied. "It doesn't matter whether I get this job or not. You have an opportunity. Take it. I will find something here in New York or elsewhere. If it is elsewhere, then we are just back to a long distance relationship like we have had in the last year. It will take you some effort to get rid of me."

"I have no interest in getting rid of you, Daria. The fact is that I want to be near you. I want to have you with me. I love you."

"I love you too, Tom. But we are at a point in life where starting our careers are going to have to be considered."

It was late enough on the way back that Daria and Tom were actually able to sit next to each other on the subway. The car was mostly empty. Daria leaned over and said in a quiet voice to Tom, "You know, I could really use something to relieve all this stress and get my mind off of this interview."

Tom replied to her, "I think we can figure something out when we get back to the hotel." Looking at his love he smiled and went on, "I have something in mind."

Daria smiled back at Tom and said, "Me too."


	6. Round Two

**Chapter 6: Round Two**

Daria walked into the building at 8:59 am. Hattie was waiting for her in the lobby.

Looking at the clock on the wall Hattie exclaimed, "Good Morning, Daria. You are the first one here. If the others aren't here in 6 minutes they will be out of the running. Are you ready to do some work today?"

Daria answered, "I'm ready to do whatever you need me to do today. Care to share the itinerary?"

"I'll let it remain a surprise. However, I will tell you that we are starting out at the writers' meeting at 9:15. By the way, I wanted to tell you that I like your look with the bohemian dresses and jacket. They really go well with your hair color. If you get hired we will have to chat. I'm dying to know where you got them."

Daria said, "Thanks. I got them…" She never finished that sentence as the other two candidates came rushing in. They were both out of breath. Clearly they had been running.

Hattie turned to the two new arrivals and said curtly, "You're late. Production doesn't wait for you. Now let's go." She had everyone sign in and take visitor badges. Then they walked to the elevators and rode to the floor with the writers' suite.

As they entered the writers' suite Daria noticed that the air conditioning seemed to be set rather cold today. The smell of coffee was strong. One of the writers yesterday had mumbled something about free coffee being the only perk of this job. Hattie motioned the interviewees to sit in specific seats around the table. The writers started filtering in and taking other seats. All were carrying coffee mugs. About half were looking at their phones. None spoke to the interviewees. At 9:30 sharp everyone put their phones away and turned toward the whiteboard.

The head writer stood up and said, "OK. It's time to get ready for tonight's show. Today we have interviewees with us. As the last part of the interviewing process they will be working with us today and have assignments like everyone else." He proceeded to go through various pieces of information regarding the waiting list of stories, status of those in process, and a list of the ones which aired the night before. There was also a board with score keeping of how many stories each writer had on air in the past six months. The guy who had been fired yesterday had none. His name had a big 'X' through it.

"So, interviewees," the head writer said. "Your assignments for today are to come up with two story proposals. Your computers have full wire service access. You also have access to other sites which may give you some insight into what is going on in the world. You can also get the format for story proposals on our private website. That site also contains the videos. I want the two proposals by noon. Then I will give you assignments to write stories which will compete for inclusion on tonight's show. You will present them at the afternoon meeting. Who knows? You might just get your story on the show if you are better than these hacks!"

The group of writers grumbled at the last comment and someone threw something at the head writer. He managed to dodge it. His comment then was, "Now all of you get to work. You've had enough break time." Everyone got up and started filing out of the room. The interviewees looked at Hattie.

Hattie said to them, "Use the same cubicles as yesterday. Now get to work. I'll check in on you during the day. In the meantime, you know who to go to if you have questions." She gestured with her thumb pointing at the head writer.

Daria walked over to her cubicle. There she sat down and started going through what was on the computer. In a momentary flash it dawned on her just how much dating Tom had affected her thinking. A year ago she would not have found this nearly as straightforward as it seemed. Sure the library she once worked in had procedures, but they weren't as rigid in time as what was expected here. Tom had really shown her that processes existed and needed to be followed. Those processes often had no underlying theoretical basis in and of themselves. They just were. Processes allowed work to flow and people to know what was expected of them. This was clearly the case here.

Daria could see that the process was roughly: orientation, proposal, review, assignment, product, selection, and finally production. Writers' products were not only reviewed by 'the boss,' but by their peers as well. The primary quality control metric was the number of stories you had aired within the last six months. If there were none, then you were clearly fired – in a most humiliating way. Daria guessed that this metric also related to things like annual review and raises. There were probably other metrics as well. Tom had given her more than a few lessons – more like lectures – about how businesses operated. That knowledge may give her an edge in this interview and hopefully the job. Well, it was time to get to work. This wasn't an exercise in free creative writing. She needed to turn out stories that would grab people's interest no matter how inane the subject matter.

By noon Daria had already written two proposals, received critiques from the head writer, revised her copy and resubmitted it with about 15 minutes to spare. While not quite working up a sweat in her cubicle, nevertheless it had been a busy morning and she was ready for the lunch break. Hattie came in just before noon, gathered the interviewees and took them to the lunch place on the ground floor. It wasn't a company cafeteria, but more like a deli with a few additional hot offerings.

Daria took soup and a sandwich for lunch. She also grabbed an additional couple of granola bars in case she needed some energy in the afternoon. Hattie paid for all of the lunches and then they sat down. Lunch seemed to be mostly a debrief about the morning. Hattie also gave them more information about the corporate structure and how the writers fit into it. Daria found the relationship between the reporters – who were mostly on-air talent and not real reporters – to be the most interesting. Both reporters and writers were needed in order to put the show on the air. Daria could see that it would be a disaster to put the writers on the air. A couple of them were real slobs. At least they all seemed to bathe!

Thirty minutes later Daria found herself back in her cubicle with two story assignments and the screen of her word processor staring back at her. She looked up some information and then started typing. It wasn't an hour before her phone rang.

"Daria Morgendorffer," she answered.

"Daria, this is Hattie. Meet me by the elevator in 10 minutes. Bring your purse." Hattie hung up before Daria could acknowledge what she said. What had been said was enough to make Daria's stomach form a distinct knot. Was this the end? Was her writing so awful that she wasn't even being allowed to finish the interview? It was a long 10 minutes, but Daria managed to finish her first story and send it to the head writer for review. Right after sending she got up, took her purse, and walked to the elevator. Hattie was waiting.

In total deadpan Daria asked, "Is this where you take me downstairs and unceremoniously throw me out into the street?"

"No," Hattie replied. "Mr. Bergen wants to see you."

"Why?" Daria asked.

Looking at Daria, Hattie replied, "I have no idea. He never has more than one meeting with an interviewee. So, I am stumped as well."

…..

As Daria was working at Lucky 12, Tom was meeting with a relocation specialist used by Doodle, Bottom, and Potts. They were going over potential rentals for Tom. He was also using the opportunity to develop a list of possible rentals for Daria. He was considering stepping up to a 2 bedroom apartment in order to have a home office. He also wanted to provide some space to keep things for Daria and maybe make it look a little more attractive to move in with him rather than keep a place of her own.

The New York rental prices were high even by Tom's standards. He could easily spend a quarter of his after tax income on rent. The places available on Daria's likely salary ranged somewhere between tiny and depressing. After about three hours they had a list of 5 apartments to look at in the afternoon for Tom. Before going out and looking the person agreed to meet tomorrow and show Daria two apartments.

Ultimately, Tom decided on two single bedroom apartments. Both were about 900 sq. ft. (83.5 m2). The neighborhoods were decent and both were very close to subway stations. Hopefully they would both still be available tomorrow after he accepted the employment offer. He would just have to wait. Tom thanked the relocation agent and headed back to the hotel to wait for Daria. There he called Doodle, Bottom and Potts and accepted the job offer.


	7. Closure

**Chapter 7: Closure**

The two women rode up in the elevator and walked to Mr. Bergen's office. As they walked past the secretary Daria noticed that the door was open. Hattie went with her as far as the open door. As Daria walked in Hattie closed the door. Daria continued to walk toward Mr. Bergen's desk.

"Hello Ms. Morgendorffer," Mr. Bergen said. "Please have a seat."

Daria said, "Hi Mr. Bergen," and sat down.

Leaning back in his chair Mr. Bergen asked, "So, give me your observations about writing here at Lucky 12. I am interested in your thoughts."

Daria thought for a moment and responded, "Well, clearly there is a fast pace to the operation. Bluntly, no one would mistake the writing for Sick Sad World for Emily Bronte! But, that is not its purpose. I think that with the workflow process you have in place you can reasonably assure that the quality of the writing will meet the expectations of both management and the audience. The writers are clearly challenged by the clock. However, I think that the people you employ are up to the task. If not, then you clearly have no problem letting them go."

"Do you think that you are up for this challenge, Daria?" Mr. Bergen asked.

"Yes I do. I believe that I have demonstrated in the tasks you assigned to the interviewees that I can produce material of acceptable quality within the time constraints. I will be honest and say that I have found it very challenging to race against the clock. Nothing at Raft really prepared me for such short deadlines. I can tell I will have much to learn in my first six months here, should you hire me."

"Those are very mature statements for a 22 year old. Where did that come from?"

"Maybe it comes from my mother the lawyer and my boyfriend the accountant. I've learned a great deal from both of them." Daria didn't add that it might also come from social skills and knowledge gained dealing with her boyfriend's mother and sister who both seemed to detest her.

Mr. Bergen replied, "That is interesting. I am impressed with your abilities. I have been reading the material you submitted. At this point I would like to make you a job offer." He pulled out a piece of paper, wrote on it and then handed it to Daria. "How does this look for your salary?"

Daria examined the number written on the paper. One thing that Tom had insisted on – to the point that he had really irritated her – was researching starting salaries for people in her field. He had also had her read articles on salary negotiation. As a new college graduate she didn't have much leverage for negotiations, but that didn't mean that she couldn't try. The salary Mr. Bergen had offered to her was a good median salary on a national scale. However, this was New York and the cost of living was through the roof.

Daria replied, "First I want to thank you for the offer. It is certainly fair on the national scale of starting salaries. But this being New York, I was hoping to do better than just national average. I think I have shown coming through the contest and the interview process that my abilities are above the national median."

"What would it take to get you to accept the job right now?" Mr. Bergen asked.

Things were moving a bit too fast for Daria. She had to think quickly and not leave anything out. The question was open ended and provided her an opportunity to get what she wanted and needed. The only issue was not to get too greedy. That could kill the whole deal.

After thinking a moment and remembering conversations she had with Tom, Daria replied, "I need 20% more salary, a 20% signing bonus, a relocation package, and a written agreement that my personal intellectual property – characters, settings, and writings – are mine and are not assigned to the company. I believe that being a published author and my literary journalism background make me more than the average starting writer – even if I just graduated from college. Also, I will need a few days so that my attorney can review the terms and conditions of employment."

"Goodness," Mr. Bergen said as his eyes got quite wide. "I guess that I am glad you don't have an agent. I would be left scrambling! OK, here is what I can do. I will give you the 20% higher salary, but we do not do signing bonuses here. I will give you a moving package, but it will not exceed 10% of your annual salary. Your intellectual property request seems fair. I will have HR provide you with the paperwork for your attorney's review. You can have up to 5 business days for the review. I will need a definitive answer a week from today. Do we have a deal?"

"Yes. Would you please write our terms down on a piece of your personal stationary and give it to me?" Daria said with confidence. The two shook hands, Mr. Bergen wrote the terms down and gave them to her on a page of his personal stationary. Then he walked her to the door.

"One favor I would ask," Mr. Bergen said. "Would you stay and complete the assignments you were given? I will pay you for half of the day. I will have payroll cut a check for you today. Also, keep this offer under your hat. I don't want the other two interviewees knowing that you have an offer. I still need to make a decision on one of them. Have Hattie take you to HR before you leave. Everything will be there."

"Sure," Daria responded. Then she headed back to the writers' suite. Today was one of the few times in her life that she felt a real rush of energy. The rest of the afternoon went quickly. Despite the time spent in the meeting with Mr. Bergen, Daria got her pieces in before the deadline. There was even time to go to the vending machine and get an Ultra-Cola to take to the afternoon production meeting.

In the production meeting the head writer looked over the group. The first thing out of his mouth was, "You people realize that two thirds of this is crap. I can't use it. Which one of you interviewees is Morgendorffer?"

"I am," Daria replied. Her heart was racing. Was she going to get a dressing down in front of everyone?

"Good writing on that flesh eating bacteria story. I like the headline – 'Swimming and Sloughing - Flesh Eating Bacteria in your Community Pool. Tonight on Sick Sad World.' We are going with the story. Congratulations. Too bad the rest of you can't do that well."

"Thank you," Daria replied. She could hear the writers grumbling in the background.

The meeting ground on until all of the remaining pieces were chosen for the evening's production. Eventually it came to an end. While everyone was milling around Hattie came in and the three interviewees followed her. They all went to human resources and were given fat envelopes. Then Hattie led them to the lobby, they turned in their badges and all but Daria left the building.

Daria sat down on a bench in the lobby of the building. She flipped open her phone and placed a call to her mother at the office.

A woman answered the phone. "Helen Morgendorffer's office. This is Mary Ann. May I help you?" Mary Ann had been Helen's administrative assistant for the past 8 years.

"Hi Mary Ann. This is Daria."

"Well hi Daria! Your mom tells me that you are in New York right now. Is everything OK? I'm sure that she would love to talk to you, but she is in a big meeting right now. They have a lawsuit that will be going to trial next week and they are prepping."

"That's fine. Look, I have something very important that I need to send to her. I have a job offer and it includes a contract that needs to be reviewed. I have to tell them yes or no in three days. Can I fax the stuff to the office? It may be after hours when it arrives."

"Certainly you can, Daria. I will tell your mother when she is out of the meeting. She will probably be here late tonight anyway. Just fax it as soon as you can. If I am still here, then I will make certain she gets it. In any event she will have it no later than tomorrow morning."

"Thanks Mary Ann. I really appreciate it."

"No problem Daria. I hope you get home safe and sound. Bye."

"Bye," Daria said and flipped her phone shut ending the call. Then she left the building and headed toward the subway.

….

Back at the hotel Tom was waiting for Daria. He sat and flipped through the channels on the TV. What was really going through his mind was not the mindless offerings of the tube, but rather all that had transpired over the last two days. He now had a job. How long would it take to find out about Daria's situation? Tom had not kept Doodle, Bottom, and Potts waiting for too long. At 4:00 pm he had called and verbally accepted the offer. Then he went to the hotel's business center and sent them an email confirming his acceptance. Well, if nothing else the blather on the financial channel would keep his mind occupied until Daria returned. The wait seemed endless.

The door opening snapped Tom out of his television induced stupor. Daria walked in. The expression on her face was totally neutral. "Hey Tom," she said.

Tom got up, walked over to Daria and kissed her. He noticed the package under her arm. Looking at her face he asked, "So how did things go?"

Looking up at him Daria replied in total deadpan, "I got the job. You would be proud of me. I even negotiated for more money and got it! There is an offer letter in that package. I need to fax it and the contract to my mother to review. I have to give them an answer no later than close of business one week from today."

"The front desk can send a fax for you," Tom said.

Daria replied, "And charge through the nose for it I'm sure!"

Both laughed as Daria pulled the paperwork out of the envelope. There were ten pages that would need to be sent to Helen. Daria changed into more comfortable clothes. Then it was off to fax the materials and then a celebratory dinner. Tom had in mind ordering some champagne. Having two jobs in hand bode well for their future together!

 _Daria is the property of MTV and the characters from Daria are used here without permission. This is a work of fan fiction and is meant solely for the enjoyment of those who choose to read it. The material is not for sale and no profit is to be derived from it._


End file.
